I’ve frequently referred to the Columbia River Bar Pilots and Columbia River Pilots (COLRIP) in my writing: my blogs, fiction and memoir. It’s true too, that I can’t think about the work they do without remembering Dad. Yes, Dad was an exuberant cheerleader for these mariners, and the work they do to keep ships moving up and down the Columbia River.
Life provides spontaneous gifts. Especially when we open ourselves to them; songs, memories, stories, beautiful acts and images. Moments when someone presents themself to us with stories previously unknown to us about the people we love. When I first met Dan Butler, I of course had to ask: Did you know my dad, Dick Montgomery? I only now imagine an expression I wasn’t astute enough at the time to recognize. “Oh yes! Did they know each other?!” Today I’d love to jet Dad back to earth to sit down for a cup of coffee with the two of them. Oh my, would that be fun. How I would tease Dad. And, in trading emails with Dan, I immediately identified a trademark wit similar to that shared by our dad.
Next best to an imagined coffee date, is to put forth this virtual interview thanks to Dan’s agreeing to respond to my questions. Yes, I’ve got to believe Dan is “the someone” who shares Dad’s love of the Columbia River, port activities, the Oregon Maritime Museum, and –yes– those Columbia River and Bar Pilots.
Dan shared that, while he doesn’t remember when he and Dad first met, they got to know each other as he begin submitting articles to the Daily Shipping News; a column Dad initiated after his official Port of Portland retirement. They got to know each other better when Dan began volunteering at the Oregon Maritime Museum, better known as the Steamer Portland, when Dad was President. Apparently, Dad began “bugging me to become the Museum’s secretary because ‘you sure know how to write.'” Yes, there are many more details, but that’s a good start to understand their relationship and shared commitments to rivers and river operations.
First, a bit about Dan
Dan Butler is a writer, researcher, and active member of the Advocates for Willamette Falls Heritage, a non-profit organization dedicated to the preservation and promotion of the historical and industrial significance of Willamette Falls in Oregon. Now retired, Dan spent a significant portion of his career in Portland’s maritime industry, and is a dedicated volunteer for the Oregon Maritime Museum. Dan also has long held a relationship with the Columbia River Pilots and the Columbia River Bar Pilots.
And so, we begin!
Dede: Please share a bit more about your background.
Dan:
“After finishing my BS in Business Administration at OSU with a minor in Forest Products, I began a career in the heavy equipment industry working for Pape Cat in Medford and Coos Bay. One of our customers in Coos Bay was Coos Bay Towboat. After getting acquainted with them, I was thrilled to ride a ship assist job and go over the bar to pick up the pilot. It was my introduction to the marine industry. We later moved to Portland where I worked for another heavy equipment dealer in sales. After I’d sold an engine rebuild to Willamette Tug & Barge, I noticed their ad in the Oregonian for a tugboat dispatcher. I applied and got the job in 1984.
In 1987 I went to work for the Columbia River Pilots as their dispatcher, a highly sought after position that was basically at the apex of dispatching jobs. I considered it to be the second best job in the world – right behind being a river pilot. I always felt blessed to be there and loved being The Voice of the River Pilots, “playin’ the hits and spinnin’ the ships” for many years. My unusual work schedule of working 2 weeks on and 2 weeks off also allowed me to pursue many other activities; including volunteering on at Brooklyn roundhouse on steam locomotive 4449 and restoring a caboose that I purchased with two partners.
Many years of time-off was also spent building the trail network that was eventually incorporated into the Mt. Talbert Nature Park. In 1993 I began working part-time for the Willamette & Pacific RR during off-duty weeks and became a locomotive engineer – something I’d always dreamed of doing. I continued there until 2009, running some of the same locomotives I’d ridden in my youth and over the same tracks I’d watched as a child. In 2023 I retired from the River Pilots after 37 years, becoming the group’s longest serving employee.”
Dede: Wow, 37 years is a long time! That’s interesting, too, about your railroad involvement. I’ll have to ask you sometime if you ever saw Dad’s model railroad he housed in Sellwood garage! (Heck, maybe you helped him with it.) Back back to the interview. What are some surprising things about the pilots?
Dan:
“When I first went to work for Columbia River Pilots, I was pretty much in awe of the pilots and considered them to be superhuman beings. But I soon came to understand that pilots were just like everyone else – they put their pants on one leg at a time. While all were competent mariners and experts in ship handling, some were exceptionally skilled.
I was told at Willamette Tug, “you’ll get to know these guys really well…” This held true at the Colrip too. As with any organization of 40-some individuals, there is a wide assortment of characters to deal with. I decided early on (quite correctly) that my only boss was the officer on duty and I had 40 partners that I worked with, not for.”
Dede: Is there a pilot that most impressed you?
Dan:
“There were many but the most colorful was Rex Pollitt.” (Dan had sent me a long and interesting article about Rex. In the interests of space, here’s an excerpt.)
“…Captain Pollitt was a long-time ‘river rat’ who began his towboating career on the Columbia River. After the World War II and when still a teenager, Rex went to work decking for Inland Navigation Co. out of The Dalles. As former Port of Portland PR manager, the late Dick Montgomery once noted, “Rex took to the river like a duck to water”, becoming a tug pilot by age eighteen and making captain by nineteen. As one of the aptly named ‘sagebrush sailors’, Rex would later regale anyone willing to listen with his oft repeated, legendary tales of running the little tug MYSTIC and oil barges on the fast moving upper river before the dams above Bonneville were built.
He eventually moved on as a boat operator for Knappton Towboat, Willamette Tug & Barge, and Shaver Transportation, as well as a stint as pilot for Portland Fire Boat. In 1966 he was admitted into that elite group of mariners, the Columbia River Pilots. When I dispatched at Willamette Tug, I’d hear his gravely voice over the radio but don’t recall ever talking to Captain Pollitt on the phone. Unlike a lot of
river pilots, he never called to request a particular tug; he’d just use whatever boat showed up. After the river pilots hired me as their dispatcher, I got to talk – or more accurately, listen – to Rex a lot and soon became very familiar with all of his ‘Pollitisms’…”
Dede: Is there a different skill set between the bar versus river pilots? Do some do both?
Dan:
“The bar pilots are all deep-sea ship captains who have earned the title of ‘Master Mariner’. They were responsible for the entire ship and crew, specializing in navigating from point A to point B, safely and efficiently. Most have limited ship handling skills in close quarters or docking as these duties are normally turned over to a local pilot.
River pilots generally do not have Master Mariner credentials but a lot of them have sailed outside and have crossed the bar countless times. Many have their federal pilots license for the bar. As tug captains, they have broad experience handling large, unwieldy tows with limited horsepower while in confined waterways with strong currents. They are also intimately familiar with local ship assist tugs and know how to use them. They are all highly trained ship drivers.
In the 85 miles between the Astoria pilot station and the Portland seawall, there are 85 course changes in a channel with an operating depth of 43 feet and a width of 600 feet. The longest straight section is only 2 miles in length. Unlike the bar, low water (tide) is encountered at some point during every transit.
The bar pilotage grounds are dredged to a depth of 55 feet (and 48 feet closer in) with a channel width of 2600 feet at the mouth and 600 feet inside the jetties. There are five course changes. Most transits over the bar take about 1.5 hours; a river transit to Vancouver/T6 takes at least 6 hours.
When US-flag tankers were regular callers here, some Masters obtained their Federal pilotage endorsement and didn’t require the services of a bar pilot. But virtually every ship (including US-flag merchant and Navy ships) takes a river pilot. So yes, numerous river pilots are qualified to cross the bar but (almost?) none of the bar pilots have pilotage above Tongue Point.”
Dede: Wow. The skill sets required to do this truly amaze me. I’ve read that more pilots arrive by helicopter than boat these days. Is this true and why?
Dan:
“When I started in 1987 the Bar pilots were still using the M/V Peacock (and its daughter boat) as their heavy weather launch and the M/V Columbia during fair weather. The Peacock had the ability to stay outside between jobs, more like a station boat. While very seaworthy it was slow and had a nasty roll – they called it a ‘puker’. I certainly can’t blame them for not wanting to wait outside on that boat. It was retired in 1999 when the helicopter arrived and it became their ‘heavy- weather’ craft. Except it really wasn’t.
The bar pilots sold industry on the high-cost helicopter for its speed, ability to board pilots during rough seas, and an increase in safety by boarding further outside. Also, with shorter pilot delivery times, the number of State licensed bar pilots could be reduced. These claims were wildly exaggerated and later the bar actually asked the Board to increase their numbers!
The ‘Seahawk’ helicopter couldn’t operate during high winds or in limited visibility. After promoting the enhanced safety benefits from boarding further offshore, it was observed that most boardings were still taking place at the CR buoy or ‘Lightship’ station.
Prior to the helo’s use, a bar closure was a very rare event – maybe 3 or 4 per year. The bar pilots worked in practically any weather. A closure was kind of a big deal and they generally didn’t last more than half a day or maybe 24 hours. These days there can be 3 or 4 a month with some lasting for days! Granted, the emphasis on maritime safety has become much more stringent in recent decades but the purported efficiencies of bar pilotage did not increase.
Two parting comments on The Bar and terribly overused “Graveyard of the Pacific”description…
Yes, in earlier times the bar was a very treacherous maritime graveyard. But with better equipment, training, forecasting, and technologies, the bar has been tamed. More significantly, anytime the weather even has the potential for becoming serious, they “suspend service”.
In sum, here’s my favorite definition of the differences between bar and river pilots: River pilots think they can walk on water – Bar pilots know they can!”
Wow, thank you Dan. I have learned a lot just putting this blog together. I’m grateful to you for sharing your knowledge and for your continued dedication to protect rivers and heritage.
I must say, now, I can see Dan grimacing as he muttered over the words “Graveyard of the Pacific” in A Map of Her Own. (He did tell me he enjoyed the book, though.) I just may never utter that phrase, at least in the same tone, again. By the way, Dad once referred to my brother-in-law as the “Puker” as we attempted to fish near Ilwaco in his Walrus IV Bartender. Larry got seasick and Dad offered to leave him on a nearby buoy. For years after he’d ask me how “the Puker” was doing. I appreciate now knowing the keen sense of humor that both Dan and Dad shared.
Related Blogs:
The Portland Steamer Keeps on Puffing
Columbia River Bar Pilots: A Job Like No Other
Thank you Dan for sharing your story and thanks Dede for the pictures; I do love the last picture, though, from the Astoria Column. This was fun reading and I can imagine fun and engaging for you to interview him.